Those who decide cannot be made to make this right
A drop of life
So dilluted it turns to wine
Intoxicating, these omens so persuasive
Conquer the meaning but fail to capture the feeling
Ounces of numbers keep on trouncing every trace of thunder
Every crashed wave, a second more to dig the grave
Just like a cell
One splits into two, creating more out of the blue

Speaking in numbers
Crunching the same old damned events
Over time, over thought
Now our ambitions are wrought

In requirements find compliance
A soothing bath in the mist
a burden, a hidrance
Striving for defiance

Magnetic measures
Early interception begins to rape the womb
Synthetic life is passed down generations
This hollow body a vessel
To carry our fate into the abyss

Bouncing in solace
A reign of new lows and dissonance
Noise is above the floor
All conditions ignored

For to obey is to bore
For lack of better guidance
The axe is set to restore natural balance

Air burning up the lungs
From singing about heroes unsung
Breathing a constant burden
A reminder of state uncertain
Our will to live is dead
Skies are roaring in blinding red
Where crows hover to decide
At which of ours head to first dive

May we never write above the line
just scribble between them
Binary rethoric lays concubines that lack coherence
In bold letters and imposing appearance
The virus spreads as death feeds on the rest

Make no mistake about the fiendish odds at stake
This game just another simple play
A coinman's trade, just another endless day
Stuck in the maze of rethoric haze

The devil's in the details
And the freedom it curtails
From a single point in time
To a lifetime of crime
There we stood, our gazes began to brood
Over one another until we understood
Their lives must end before ours begin

Air burning up the lungs
From singing about heroes unsung
Breathing a constant burden
A reminder of state uncertain
Our will to live is dead
Skies are roaring in blinding red
Where crows hover to decide
At which of ours head to first dive

Crosschecking references
Scribbling common differences
Pertaining to each and every color
Painting blood black striving for honor

Slumber grows old, action is new
Leading our lavish tongues to speak the language of the few
A fresh breath is the first and last
The realization of a moment so vast
Nothing short of a miracle was cast